


Ritual, With Oil

by dustandroses



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: Community: tamingthemuse, First Time, M/M, PWP, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-09
Updated: 2013-12-09
Packaged: 2018-01-04 04:17:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,964
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1076429
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dustandroses/pseuds/dustandroses
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This was what Xander got for volunteering.  He needed to stop doing that.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ritual, With Oil

**Author's Note:**

> **Prompt Notes:** Inspiration for this fic taken from tamingthemuse prompt #385: Syzygy  
>  **Notes:** Takes place directly after the events in _Who Are You_ \- Season Four, Episode Sixteen  
>  As for the prompt syzygy: I went with the astronomical definition of the word: A configuration of celestial bodies. There was [a pretty spectacular one in May of 2000](http://nssdc.gsfc.nasa.gov/planetary/alignment.html) that included the Sun, the Moon, and all the planets except for Uranus and Pluto (which was, at the time, still considered a planet.) That alignment actually happened several months after _Who Are You_ aired, so I fudged the timeline a bit for the purposes of the story.

Spike’s skin was so pale. And soft. Xander hadn’t expected the soft. With his hands covered with fragrant oils, it was kind of soothing, rubbing the oils into the skin of Spike’s back. He wasn’t thinking any lower than that, because he didn’t want to embarrass himself. He knew he would have to sooner or later, but if he concentrated on the act of oiling the skin, and not whose body he was running his hands over, then maybe he could get through this whole thing without making too much of a fool out of himself. Yeah, right. He dipped his hands back into the bowl of warm oil, and continued to rub. 

He needed to stop volunteering for things like this. As a matter of fact, with his track record, he should probably never volunteer for anything, ever again. This was it. Never again. He was going to wipe that word out of his vocabulary. As soon as he stopped admiring the way his hands slid over Spike’s firm muscles, and pale, glowing skin. He was a pretty vampire. Very pretty vampire – which he had to stop drooling over, if he was going to get out of this without embarrassing himself too much.

Spike was even kind of helping, or not so much helping, but avoiding hindering Xander in his efforts to survive this ritual without developing a huge boner. Which was good, because then Spike would make fun of him, and Giles would get flustered and polish the lenses of his glasses into oblivion, and Buffy would have to fight the Isnocyk demon all by herself tomorrow night, and she’d end up breaking a nail or ruining her new kicky heels. Everyone would be unhappy, and it would be all Xander’s fault for being unable to control his baser instincts and popping a boner during the ritual.

The all male, rubbing Spike’s naked body with oil while Giles chanted in Latin in the background ritual. Oh, look, he was half-hard already. Damn those Isnocyk demons, it just wasn’t fair. Why did the ritual have to be performed by men? There were women in the group who’d be glad to rub their hands all over Spike – well, no, Xander guessed they most likely wouldn’t. Buffy and Riley were trying to recover from the hard hit their relationship had suffered when Riley had slept with Faith last week. Sure, it wasn’t his fault, he’d thought he’d slept with Buffy, but still, they didn’t need the distractions.

Willow and Tara’s relationship was still fairly new, and he didn’t know about Tara, but Willow was like Xander, she liked boys as well as girls, so maybe she’d get as hot and bothered as Xander already was. And Tara could read auras, so she’d know Willow was all turned on, and that could be bad for their budding relationship. Besides, Spike was a pervert; if two hot women like Willow and Tara rubbed oil on his body, he’d be hard enough to hammer nails. No, Willow and Tara didn’t need to get anywhere near Spike’s body. His hard muscled, tightly coiled, sexy, naked body. 

He moved around to the front, and dripped fresh oil onto Spike’s chest, watching it run down his skin. Xander’s hard-on was painful. Spike was just so perfect that Xander couldn’t help himself. Oh, look. Spike’s nipples liked it when Xander rubbed his oiled hands across them; they got all hard and crinkly. Spike opened one eye and cocked an eyebrow at Xander. Xander pulled his hand back with a gasp. How long had he been rubbing Spike’s nipples? It was definitely time to move on. 

His mind flashed on walking in on Spike in the bathroom when he’d roomed with Xander. He had a great cock. Oh, but that would not be of the good. Six pack! Xander cringed, he meant abs. Right. Abs. He could rub oil into Spike’s abs, and still avoid looking down. That was good. He glanced back at Spike’s face, but he had both eyes closed again, for which Xander was thankful. 

They were both supposed to be concentrating on the alignment of the Earth, the Sun, and the Moon, while all the other planets, or most of them anyway, were lined up on the other side of the Sun. But Anya had decided just last month to pack up her orgasms and head for greener pastures. Now Xander had only his right hand for company, and that did not help him concentrate on the alignment of the planets. 

And Spike, well, Xander was sure his thoughts were something like, “Oi, find me some bloody chits to rub oil all over me, not the bloody Droopy Boy.” 

As soon as Xander felt Spike’s hipbones under his hands, he went back behind Spike again. Okay, so Spike’s ass was damn perfect, too, but at least he wouldn’t have to stare at Spike’s cock while he rubbed oil into Spike’s skin. He got on his knees, careful not to fall on the slippery plastic tarp that Giles had covering the floor of the living room. Oh yeah, those were some perfect glutes. Maybe he should take care of those first, to get them out of the way. Mmmm… firm and smooth.

He was careful not to spend too much time on Spike’s ass, but Giles had said to make sure every inch was covered, so he slipped the fingers of one hand down Spike’s crack, Xander’s slippery hand gliding between his cheeks with ease. Nice. Spike took a deep breath, holding it as Xander’s hand drifted down to slide along the inside of Spike’s thigh. Then he repeated the move with his other hand, just to make sure he hadn’t missed anything. 

That’s when he noticed that Giles had stopped chanting. He looked over. Giles stared at him, open mouthed, his jaw working like a fish’s would, but nothing came out. When Giles realized Xander had noticed him staring, he shuddered, and turned back to his text, his face beet red. What was that all about? The sound of Giles’ mellow voice speaking in Latin soothed Xander after all these years, and he went back to his job, his hands running down one leg, and back up again before starting on the other. 

There was only the front left, since the first thing they’d done was rub the oil into Spike’s scalp and face. He’d looked so contented and relaxed that Xander had been jealous. But the longer Xander worked, the tenser Spike got. He seemed to be trembling with tiny tremors that covered his whole body. Well, nothing for it, Xander needed to bite the bullet and face Spike’s front. He crawled around, head ducked, refusing to look higher than Spike’s knees. If he looked at Spike’s cock he’d be lost. He was so hard, already. 

Xander’d worn old sweats for the ceremony, knowing they’d be covered in oil by the time he was through. But they weren’t loose enough to hide his boner. As soon as he could, he’d need to run for the bathroom, or everyone would know how pitiful he was. He’d never live this down. 

Huh. Spike even had pretty toes, long and kind of elegant. He practically lived in those old boots of his; it was hard to imagine how he managed to keep such nice toes.

Well, here it was, the final moments – he spread the oil over Spike’s thighs, eyes tightly closed, then stood up and turned back to Spike, his eyes naturally drawn to the portion of Spike’s anatomy he’d been craving and dreading all this time. He gasped with shock, stepping back and slipping in the oil, going down hard on one knee. Spike’s strong hand stopped him from landing on his ass, and pulled Xander back to his feet. He blinked, trying to understand the smirky little grin on Spike’s face. 

He looked back down again, and there it was: proof positive. Spike was as hard as Xander was. If anything, maybe harder - the foreskin was pulled back from the glans, and a perfect drop of precome hung from the tip, falling to the plastic tarp as he watched. Spike reached out his hand and pulled Xander closer. He realized he still had to oil Spike’s perfect cock, and all around it, too. He gulped, and glanced over at Giles, who had his head buried in his book, his body twisted at an unusual angle, to try and hide the bulge Xander could see in his pants. Even Giles was affected by this ritual.

Xander went back on one knee, and dipped his hand in the oil, one last time. While he was there, he finished up Spike’s thighs and his curly light brown hair. Hah, he’d known Spike wasn’t a blond. He glanced up, and the hunger on Spike’s face as he stared down at Xander made him shudder. He stood up, and reached out, pulling his hand along Spike’s cock, while the other hand oiled his balls. Spike’s eyes fell closed, his breath shuddering out of him as his head fell back. Xander started to stroke, but he saw Giles stand up over Spike’s shoulder, so he stopped, and took a step back.

“Giles?”

“You’re finished, then?”

Xander nodded, not sure what he’d say, but he needed to come, and from the looks of it, so did Spike. Giles nodded, and stepped forward, a fine powder on his palm. Spike turned around, not at all concerned about his gleaming hard-on waving in the breeze. Giles cleared his throat, his eyes focused on Spike’s forehead, spoke half a dozen words in Latin, and blew the powder over Spike’s face and shoulders. Two more words in Latin, and Giles nodded. 

“I’ll just be in the bathroom for a few minutes, then I think the two of you would both benefit from a shower.” He turned away, and said over his shoulder, “There are towels on the tarp behind you.” Then he was gone.

Spike turned around, shoved Xander’s pants down and took Xander’s cock in his oily hand. Xander grabbed Spike’s, and they started to stroke. After just a few strokes, Xander came, biting his lip on his cries, with the thought of Giles in the bathroom nearby. Spike wasn’t far behind, and he pressed his face into the crook of Xander’s shoulder, muffling his shout. They stood there for a moment, both of them gasping, then Spike pulled back, and Xander opened his eyes.

He wasn’t prepared for Spike to attack him, but attack Xander he did, his lips on Xander’s, his tongue probing until Xander opened his mouth to let him in. They kissed aggressively, tongues pushing, winding around each other, hungry for more, the powder on Spike's lips bitter on his tongue. Then Spike pulled back, and grabbed a towel for each of them, cleaning himself off as if nothing had happened. 

The toilet flushed in the other room, and Xander realized that Spike must have heard Giles in the bathroom. Ewww. Scrubbing that thought out of his head as best he could, he spoke softly, knowing Spike would hear him. 

“Do you want…” He hesitated, unsure of how to finish that sentence. 

“Your place is better than mine, unless you prefer graveyards?”

Xander shuddered. “My place it is. As soon as we can get away.”

“You’re on, mate.” He winked at Xander.

Xander felt his whole body suffuse with heat in an instant. A wink - that was all it took. Spike was good. As Xander started to towel off, he noticed the bowl of oil sitting on the floor. He should volunteer to get rid of all that slippery oil for Giles. He couldn’t control his grin. It was the least he could do.


End file.
